


Can't Sleep

by chinesebakery



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insomnia, Jemma has no chill, Missed Opportunities, bad memories, but it's all better now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6767242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chinesebakery/pseuds/chinesebakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fitz reminisces of less happy times, Jemma pulls him out of his funk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> For tashxTARDIS who asked for Fitzsimmons + "I can't sleep."
> 
> Thanks to Agentcalliope for beta-reading.

Jemma was pulled out of sleep by a rhythmical, gentle graze of fingers up and down her wrist. When her eyes fluttered open, the motion stopped momentaneously.

"Sorry," Fitz muttered. "Didn't mean to wake you."

He was sprawled on his side, facing her, and Jemma could barely tell the contours of his face in the darkness.

"What time is it?" she asked, stirring softly.

"Late. Early," he amended, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. "I just– I can't sleep."

There was something in his voice that bothered her, she couldn't quite pinpoint what –a sense of remoteness, maybe, that she couldn't remember hearing in a long time.

"What's wrong?" She grabbed his hand then and held it between the both of hers, scooting close enough to feel his warmth.

"Nothing." Her eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness and she could see the dismissive waving of his long fingers now. "Just my brain making noise."

With that, Jemma instantly grew more alert. Cautiously, she asked, "what kind of noise?"

He shook his head and kept quiet for a while. Jemma felt blindly around the bedside table until she found the cord and clicked the lamp on, wanting to see his face and get a better reading of his mood. She braced herself for a difficult conversation –be it about Will's ghost's recent reemergence, or her dismissal of Lincoln's grand gesture, which she realized might go on to become a contentious point between them.

When he finally spoke, what came out was not what she'd expected at all.

"Do you remember that Christmas party, our first year in Sci-Ops?"

Pushing past her surprise, she raked her brain for a recollection, but nothing much came up. They'd gone to the party together, of that she was certain, and she'd had too much to drink, if the hours she'd spent retching the next day were any indications. She didn't usually indulge that much, and she sure had paid for it that time.

"I remember the next morning," she winced.

"Yeah, you were in a bad way," he concurred with an awkward chuckle.

"Why are you thinking about that now? What happened?"

"You were pretty drunk," he sighed. "We both left early, cause I didn't want you out there alone, not when there were so many intoxicated idiots roaming around campus and–"

"So you escorted me home," she summarized with a nod. "Then what?"

"When we got there, you… You sort of– came on to me?"

 _"I came on to you?"_ Jemma shrieked, sitting upright. "Came on to you _how?"_

"Don't make it sound worse than it is, okay? You went on this long slurred speech about me being better than all the blokes you knew, and then you tried to kiss me. I told you it wasn't a good idea, that you'd regret it the moment you sobered up, but you sweared it wasn't like that. That you'd still want to kiss me in the morning. Well, you weren't talking about 'kissing' at that point."

"And then what happened?" she pressed, squeezing her eyes shut to counter the retrospective mortification she felt.

"Nothing happened!" Fitz snapped. "Who do you think I am?"

"Okay," she said, waiting for him to elaborate.

"That night I laid in bed, thinking about– about _you._ All the things I liked about you, how you were the only person whose opinion I ever cared about, and how much I– _wanted_ you. I conceded, finally." He paused to heave a shaky sigh. "I told myself, if she still feels this way tomorrow… Yeah. _Yeah._ Everything is going to change."

"But I didn't remember," she said, her heart sinking for them both.

"You didn't remember," he nodded. "And you were _so_ sick. I started thinking myself into a circle, feeling like you were disgusted with me."

"Ugh, Fitz." She wrapped herself around his body, half-sprawled on top of him under the covers, and tucked her head in the crook of his neck. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I thought, if you'd really meant it, you would have… I don't know. It would have been different."

In hindsight, she could tell that their relationship had taken a toll in the following months. Without her knowing why, he'd grown touchy with her, sullen, and his usual offhand jokes had gained a new mean streak. On top of that, she'd grown sore over his systematic, blatant contempt for her boyfriends –not that he'd been very supportive of her dating life before.

"You were cross with me for a long time," she stated simply.

"Before that night, I never truly acknowledged to myself that I– that you were more than a mate. It took some time to properly repress it all again."

"Why are you thinking about that now? We're together," she pointed out. "In bed. Practically naked."

"I know it doesn't matter anymore, but…" His brow furrowed together. "All that time we lost? Between the two of us, we could have died a dozen times, at least, and we would never have known. If I'd been braver, if I'd plucked up the courage to talk to you about it, maybe– we could have been together years ago."

"I'm sorry I didn't remember. Whatever I told you then, I'm sure I meant it. I was in denial for a very long time," she said resolutely.

"You don't have to–"

"It's the truth, Fitz. You have to know that by now."

Gingerly, he nodded. Neither of them had said the words yet, but surely he knew how she felt regardless? She'd tried, more than once, but the moment had never been right and after saving it for so long, she didn't want to just drop it on him in the midst of a bittersweet mom

"There's nothing I can do about that night." She freed herself of his embrace to plant her knees on each side of his hips, sitting lightly on his thighs. "What we _can_ do, is take advantage of our being together, in bed, practically naked," she said, raising a finger for each one, "and try to make up for lost time."

She didn't give him time to ponder and grabbed the hem of the only garment she wore –a battered Donkey Kong shirt she'd stolen from him years ago, on one of their first trip aboard the Bus. She pulled it above her head and discarded it without a glance back.

"Is that how you treat the things you borrow from me?" Fitz feigned shock, his hand gripping her hip gently. "Consider that shirt un-lent."

Jemma smirked and leaned so her fingers could trace a line that started at his bristled jaw, ran across his heart –it was pounding now, she could feel it– and straight down past his navel to the elastic of his boxers.

Her own heart stuttered when his hands settled on her breasts. His chest was heaving slightly now, his eyes darting from her face to the landmarks of her body –it appeared his reflections upon sourer times were forgotten for now. When her hand slipped inside his underwear, he took a sharp intake of breath and, unwittingly, squeezed his eyes shut.

"I see my cunning plan to get you naked worked _again_ ," he said unsteadily.

Grabbing her waist to steady her, Fitz sat up in a swift movement that pressed their body flush against each other. As her arms wrapped around him, their mouths met for deep, searing kisses that sent waves of heat coursing down her body.

"You're not getting that t-shirt back," she gasped when his mouth finally trailed down to her neck.

"Damn, you see right through me," he said, equally breathless, and she felt him smile against her skin.


End file.
